


Believe Me

by magicpiano



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Addiction, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Depression, Established Relationship, Hopeful Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Not Beta Read, Past Drug Use, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred, Self-Worth Issues, Suicidal Thoughts, alcohol posioning, and they are only slightly meantioned, implided past rape, none of those really bad things happen between e and r, refrenced past abusive relationship, refrenced past non-consensual drug use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:14:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24701389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magicpiano/pseuds/magicpiano
Summary: “Alcoholism is an illness.” Enjolras said his thumb gently stroking Grantaire’s cheek, “It’s not your fault Grantaire, I am not blaming you, but you need help.”“I don’t need anyone’s help.”
Relationships: Enjolras/Grantaire (Les Misérables)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 63





	Believe Me

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is very angsty and has a lot of possible triggers, so please read the warnings first!  
> I have no idea where this fic came from, it started as something completely unrelated, but grew into this thing, whatever this thing is. I originally decided to take a short break from my angsty wip and write some fluff... but I ended up writing this angsty mess instead. Please believe me when I say it was meant to be fluff.  
> This fic also ended up being very personal and deals with somethings I have in the past, so... Yeah this fic is something alright.
> 
> Warnings:  
> Alcoholism/ addiction  
> Injury/ the aftermath of alcohol poisoning  
> Depression/ suicidal thoughts  
> Past drug use and possibly non-consensual drug use  
> Past abusive relationship/ implied rape  
> Self-worth/ confidence issues  
> Slightly unhealthy relationship (Grantaire seeing Enjolras as more important than himself)  
> I think that is it, but if you see something I missed and want tagged please tell me.

“I don’t understand why we are having this debate.” Enjolras huffed out slumping fully into the stiff plastic hospital chair. It was clear he was getting annoyed with talking in circles. Grantaire could relate, he was getting annoyed with their conversation too.

“Neither do I.” Grantaire said looking away from Enjolras to the window. The afternoon sun was shining into the room, but the light didn’t quite reach his bed so it could warm him. It was always cold in hospitals, but Grantaire was too stubborn to ask for another blanket.

“R-“ Enjolras, never one to be defeated, started again.

“What am I supposed to do? Go off to rehab? Everyone will know, they will look at me differently.” Grantaire interrupted before Enjolras could begin his tangent. He tightened his grip on the blankets, shame was filling him, “How am I supposed to face them all again?”

“You think they won’t welcome you back with open arms?” Enjolras asked softly, like he was afraid his words would hit Grantaire too hard.

Enjolras gently placed his hand on top of Grantaire’s in a comforting gesture. Grantaire remembered years ago when he would have been thrilled to be gifted this small touch. Now that they are dating it is just a reminder of everything he has at stake, everything he stands to lose.

Grantaire knows of course that their friends will be supportive. They will be helpful and kind and self sacrificing. They will be themselves, and Grantaire hates that idea more than he can admit. He doesn’t want any of them troubling themselves with his emotional bullshit. He especially doesn’t want to drag Enjolras down this well with him.

“I don’t want their pity.” Grantaire finally said, shaking off Enjolras’ hand. Grantaire only sees the flash of hurt for a moment before he turns back to the window. He doesn’t have it in him to look at Enjolras right now.

There is a moment of silence where Enjolras collects his words. When he speaks again it is with a steely determination that leaves no room for argument. “They don’t hang around you because they pity you. They are your friends, and they love you.”

Grantaire knows he can be rather fun to be around. He is great at parties because he always has an interesting story to tell. He is helpful at protests purely because he knows how to throw a punch and will gladly do so if the opportunity presents itself. But none of these things make him a good friend. Grantaire is aware he drags them all down. He doesn’t need Enjolras to soften the blow for him.

There is no real response Grantaire can give, so he doesn’t say anything at all, he just keeps looking out the window. This appears to have been the wrong course of action because it enraged Enjolras. That is rather par for the course though, Grantaire always seems to enrage Enjolras.

“You think I am wrong? You think they don’t care? You didn’t see them that night.” Enjolras propped himself out of his chair so quickly the plastic screeched against the tiled floor. Grantaire flinched at the sound but turned back to look at Enjolras. He could never be ignored when he was like this. “Joly wouldn’t stop crying.”

For a moment Enjolras looked so defeated. “He just wouldn’t stop crying.”

“Joly?”

“He was so sure he had done something wrong and accidently killed you. He is still only a medical student; he doesn’t know everything. He thought his best friend was going to die.” Enjolras looked overcome with sadness. Moments before he was full of anger but now, he appeared limp, and broken.

“I am sure the only reason Bossuet didn’t cry too was because he was trying to be strong for Joly. This is not to mention how devastated everyone else was.” Enjolras continued on solemnly, “We all thought we were going to die, I thought-“ Enjolras cut himself off from his dark train of thought, “Don’t you dare sit there and think we don’t love you.”

“Whatever happened to me wouldn’t have been Joly’s fault.” Grantaire said, because it was the only thing that he knew for sure to be true. If he had died it wasn’t because of Joly. Grantaire shouldn’t have put this responsibility on Joly, he shouldn’t have called Joly for help. Joly deserved a better friend than him, one that wouldn’t put such horrible responsibilities on his shoulders. This was just another thing for Grantaire to hate himself for. “It is my own fault for being stupid.”

“We know it is not Joly’s fault, but it is anyone’s guess if Joly recognizes that.” Enjolras said, waving his hand in a distracted thought. He was probably thinking about how to help Joly through the trauma Grantaire has put him through. He stopped suddenly and added as an afterthought, “And don’t call yourself stupid.”

Enjolras moved in front of him, forcing himself into Grantaire’s frame of vision. “We are your friends and we are going to help you, that is what friends do.” It was obvious that Enjolras had had enough of Grantaire’s bullshit and was about to cut to the heart of the matter. He began to ruffle through his backpack that he had left on the floor next to his chair. “Now, I have been talking to Combeferre, Joly and your doctor about your options-“

“You’ve been what?” Grantaire snarled fuming.

“I have a list of options for you.” Enjolras said, frowning at Grantaire’s change in tone. He was holding a folder he had pulled from his bag.

“This isn’t your business.” Grantaire spat, he couldn’t believe that Enjolras would do this, betray him like this. “And you have no right to go talk behind my back about my medical history.”

“I wasn’t discussing-”

“They are my friends, and you are talking to them behind my back about my health issues.”

Enjolras’ eye flew wide open, it appeared he realized where he had overstepped his bounds. He took half a step back in an attempt to escape the venom in Grantaire’s voice. He only faltered for a moment before shaking it off and moving forward confidently to Grantaire’s bedside.

“I am sorry Grantaire, I didn’t intend for it to come off that way.” Enjolras said, taking a stack of pamphlets out of his folder and placing them on Grantaire’s lap. “I just wanted to have a list of options ready for you when you woke up.”

Grantaire wasn’t placated by Enjolras’ apology. He was still fuming at the mental image of all his friends gathered together discussing what to do with him, like he was a rabid animal that needed to be put down. Or something broken that needed to be fixed.

“I don’t need options or your pamphlets!” Grantaire said tossing the flyers for rehab centers back at Enjolras.

Enjolras, for his part, remained calm in the face of Grantaire’s stormy anger. “Do you have someplace else in mind already?”

Enjolras leaned down to gather up the papers that Grantaire had thrown onto the floor. Grantaire knew he should feel guilty about forcing Enjolras to clean up after him when he was busy being a lazy lout laying in a hospital bed, but he felt his anger was justified. This was not Enjolras’ place, this was Grantaire’s life and he would live it as he pleased.

And Enjolras had gone too far talking to Combeferre and Joly about this. He had no right to do that. It was bad enough all of the amis apparently knew what he had done, but now they were apparently discussing it behind closed doors.

“No, I don’t have any place in mind already.” Grantaire hissed crossing his arms over his chest.

“Then what-“

“I am not going anywhere.” Grantaire declared before Enjolras even got the chance to ask. He wasn’t going to rehab, this had all been an unfortunate mistake and he wasn’t going to let anyone think anything else. He wasn’t going to lose whatever shed of respect the amis had for him left.

“What do you mean you are not going?” Enjolras asked, horrified. His spine straightened up like he had been struck by something. The pamphlets he had just been picking up slipped out of his fingers and back onto the floor. Fear was beginning to crawl into his voice. “You  _ need _ to go.”

“I don’t need to go anywhere.” Grantaire retorted.

“You almost died!” Enjolras shouted, “Two days ago, Joly called me in the middle of the night to tell me you were in the hospital. He found you nearly dead on the floor. You would have  _ died _ if he didn’t come to check in on you!”

One thing Grantaire had learned about Enjolras, in all the years he had known that man, was his anger. Enjolras was an angry man, but unlike other people he knew, Enjolras succeeded in channeling it into something productive. In the early days of their acquaintance, Enjolras channeled his anger into changing Grantaire’s mind, to bring him around to Enjolras’ point of view. It would seem now Enjolras was channeling it into pushing Grantaire to places he didn’t want to go.

Enjolras hadn’t been able to succeed and make a believer out of Grantaire all those years ago and he wouldn’t succeed in convincing Grantaire to go now.

“I get it ok?” Grantaire conceded, “I need to cut back. I don’t plan on doing this again, but I don’t need rehab either.”

These words didn’t seem to have the desired calming effect, Enjolras just looked more distraught. Enjolras sat down on his bed beside him and threaded their fingers together. Grantaire opened his mouth to say something but quickly closed it. He never knew what to say or do when Enjolras was being affectionate. These moments left him feeling like the frog the princess kissed.

“Please Grantaire, listen to me, you need to go. You need help, help we can’t give you.” Enjolras whispered, his soft voice barely audible, meant to be heard by Grantaire alone.

Grantaire gave Enjolras’ hand a comforting squeeze. He hated that he had brought all his friends so much distress. He looked forward to putting all this behind him. “I just need to drink a bit less; it is not a big deal.”

“Not a big deal? You almost died!” Enjolras blew up again, snapping his head up from where he was looking at their joined hands. Grantaire tried once more to comfort Enjolras with a hand squeeze, but it did little to wipe the creases from Enjolras’ brow.

“Look, I’m fine, now aren’t I?” Grantaire asked with a cocky grin that would normally result in Enjolras giving him a playful shove.

“You’re  _ not _ fine Grantaire,” Enjolras insisted leaning in close to Grantaire’s face, “you are ill, and you need a doctor.”

Grantaire shook his head and brushed off Enjolras’ concern. Things seemed bad now because he was still in a hospital bed, but Grantaire had talked to his doctor, he knew he was going to be fine. When he was safely back at home Enjolras would realize that.

Enjolras saw the way Grantaire scoffed at his words and scowled at him in retaliation. Enjolras sat there a moment frowning in thought. When Grantaire tried to tug at his arm to bring him closer, his movements were stiff and cold.

“Enjolras-“ Grantaire tried to speak, tried to make Enjolras understand, but even he didn’t know where he was going with this train of thought.

“You made me your medical proxy Grantaire.” Enjolras finally said. He looked Grantaire directly in his eyes as he spoke, and Grantaire could see his fierce determination. “If you won’t go, I’ll… I will make this decision for you if I must.”

“How dare you?” Grantaire ripped his hand out from Enjolras grasp. Enjolras reached out to try and pull him back but Grantaire had pushed back his blankets and was pulling himself out of bed. He wobbled a bit upon standing, his body was still weak, but his anger was forceful enough to keep him upright. “You have no right to take control of my life!”

“I am not trying to control your life, I am trying to save it!” Enjolras countered bolting up from the bed as well.

“I made you my medical proxy because I trusted you.” Grantaire spat back.

“You trusted me to make a decision when your life was in danger and that is exactly what I am doing.”

“I am fine.” Grantaire’s point was somewhat lost by the rush of dizziness that overtook him and almost turned him into a heap on the floor. He only managed to keep himself upright by grabbing his IV pole for support.

Enjolras was at his side a moment later. Arms were thrown around him and the majority of Grantaire’s weight was suddenly being carried for him. Grantaire’s pride made him want to push Enjolras away, but he was not foolish enough to do such a thing. It would only end with them both toppled over and while he might have been willing to do such a thing to himself, he was unwilling to harm Enjolras in such a way.

Grantaire was silent as Enjolras pulled him back into a sitting position on the bed. Enjolras got down on his knees in front of Grantaire so they were eye level with each other. Enjolras’ hand cupped his cheek pulling his face up towards him.

“Alcoholism is an illness.” Enjolras said his thumb gently stroking Grantaire’s cheek, “It’s not your fault Grantaire, I am not blaming you, but you need help.”

“I don’t need anyone’s help.”

Enjolras shook his head dismissing Grantaire’s words. “This is what is best for you.”

This comment caused Grantaire’s blood to rapidly boil. Best for him? Who did Enjolras think he was? Whatever their relationship was he wasn’t going to let Enjolras decide what was ‘best for him’. He had walked down that road once before, he knew how it ended.

“Oh, you know what is ‘best’ for me now?” Grantaire smacked Enjolras’ hand away from his cheek. “I had a boyfriend in the past who knew what was ‘best’ for me too. You’re not the first.”

Enjolras looked startled by Grantaire’s words. He looked down at the hand Grantaire had slapped for a moment before dragging his eyes back up to Grantaire’s. “I don’t know what you are talking about.” Enjolras confessed.

“When I got a little too depressed to fuck, he always had some pill to make it all better too.” Grantaire retorted, his voice dripping with venom. He remembered the hell of those days well. Enjolras hadn’t known him then, he didn’t know how low Grantaire had once fallen, nor how hard he worked to crawl himself into the better place he was in now. Enjolras thought this was bad? He didn’t know the half of it. He didn’t know how bad Grantaire had been.

If Grantaire had his way Enjolras would never know. Whatever Enjolras might feel for him now surely wouldn’t last if he knew the true depth of Grantaire’s depravity.

“I don’t-“

“I don’t need whatever you or some fucking psychologist thinks I need.” Grantaire continued ignoring Enjolras’ attempts to speak.

“R… Why didn’t you… We aren’t going to force you to take any-“ Enjolras’s speech was scattered, he kept cutting himself off, unsure of his own words. It was rare to see Enjolras unsure what to say, Grantaire didn’t like it but at least Enjolras was now rethinking his position. “I am not going to force you to do anything you do want to do. I would never-“

“You just said you were going to toss me into some hell hole!”

“It’s rehab Grantaire! Not prison!” Enjolras retorted, “You almost died. Don’t you understand that?”

“I understand plenty.”

“Obviously not.” Enjolras was positively fuming. The fact that he was still kneeling on the floor was probably the only thing stopping him from pacing. He always paced when they were having an argument. “You almost died! Do you want to die?”

Grantaire didn’t have a response to that. He knew the right answer was no, but some days he wasn’t so sure. Did he want to die? Not really, but did he want to live? Unfortunately, most days the answer to this question was also ‘not really’.

He apparently took too long to think of an answer or Enjolras just heard the answer from his silence because a horrible wet gasp escaped Enjolras’ lips.

“Grantaire?” Enjolras pleaded, pulling Grantaire’s face into his hands. Somehow Enjolras read everything Grantaire tried so hard to keep secret on his face. “Oh god no R please no.”

In a moment Enjolras’ whole body seemed to crumple. His body collapsed in on itself as the meaning of Grantaire’s silence truly hit home. Enjolras covered his face with his hands and began to weep. Sobs wracked through him causing full body shivers.

Any anger Grantaire felt towards Enjolras flew out of him at the sight. Why did he always destroy everything? Why did he have to go and make Enjolras cry?

Grantaire felt the urge to take it all back, to beg for forgiveness, to promise Enjolras that he didn’t mean it. But lies always tasted sour on his lips when speaking to Enjolras. Besides, the truth was out now, it lingered in the air between them and nothing Grantaire could do would put Enjolras’ heart back together again.

“Okay, okay, okay…” Enjolras began to mutter to himself in some desperate attempt to calm himself down. He wiped the tears from his face with the sleeve of his hoodie. When Enjolras looked up, Grantaire saw how red his eyes were, it remained as proof of the tears that were there just a moment ago.

“This is going to be okay.” Enjolras said grasping Grantaire’s hands into his own. “We’ll work it out. Okay?”

Grantaire could barely stand to look at Enjolras’ hopeful face. Whatever Enjolras believed about him was wrong, he was going to fuck up and hurt Enjolras again. It would be better for them both if Enjolras realized that now.

“Enjolras, don’t you get it? I am a fuck up, a huge fuck up.”

Enjolras shook his head vehemently, unwilling to listen to Grantaire self-depreciating words.

“You are sick.” Enjolras insisted squeezing Grantaire’s hands tightly, “It is a disease, alcoholism and depression. We will get you some help and-“

“And what?” Grantaire asked, “Are you going to save me?”

The problem was this: Enjolras was kind, too kind. He wanted to make the world a better place, he wanted to make Grantaire a better person. Maybe he did have what it took to do the first, if anyone had that capability it was Enjolras. But if there was only one thing Grantaire knew, it was that Enjolras didn’t have what it took to do the second.

Enjolras couldn’t save him and Grantaire wouldn’t want him to. He would just end up dragging them both down.

“I am not one of your causes.” Grantaire attempted to let Enjolras down gently. “You can’t liberate me Enjolras.”

“That’s not why-“ Enjolras began to get fired up again but seemed to think better of it collapsing back in on himself. “That’s not why I am going to help you, and I’m  _ going _ to help you. I don’t know how yet, but I will.”

“Then why Enjolras?” Grantaire asked. “Why are you doing all of this? Why are you-“

“Because I love you Grantaire!” Enjolras exclaimed.

The force of the declaration nearly took the air out of Grantaire’s lungs. They had been dating for a few months and Grantaire still didn’t understand how it had come to be. He didn’t understand how Enjolras could stand being around him as often as he was. He didn’t know what Enjolras felt towards him, but he never would have guessed this.

Enjolras loving him? It didn’t seem possible; it couldn’t be true. Enjolras was wrong, misinformed, confused, he would see the truth for himself soon enough.

“I love you and I am not going to sit here and let you destroy yourself.” Enjolras continued paying no head to Grantaire’s internal struggles. “You still don’t believe me, do you?”

“I always believe in you Enjolras.” Grantaire answered honestly.

“You believe in me,” Enjolras corrected, “but you don’t  _ believe _ me.”

“I believe that you don’t know what you are saying.” Grantaire admitted, “You don’t know me like I know myself, not yet at least. But someday, if you keep hanging around me, you will. When you do, you’re not going to want anything to do with me.”

Enjolras brought their clasped hands to his lips and softly kissed Grantaire’s palms. “You're wrong.”

“You are better off without me.” Grantaire said, barely holding back tears at the tenderness of Enjolras’ action.

“I’m really not.” Enjolras insisted.

Grantaire let the confidence in Enjolras’ voice wash over him. He didn’t think their love would last and he didn’t think Enjolras understood what he had gotten into by dating someone like Grantaire. Even so, he didn’t want to hurt Enjolras more than he clearly already had.

“We can look over those pamphlets you brought later if you want?” Grantaire offered. He didn’t think it would work, he didn’t think it would matter, but for Enjolras maybe… “I am not making any promises but-“

Enjolras threw his arms around Grantaire in a tight hug.

“Thank you, R.” Enjolras muttered into Grantaire’s neck. “We are going to figure this out, together. I promise.”

Grantaire wasn’t so sure about that, but for Enjolras’ sake he was willing to try.

**Author's Note:**

> A lot happens in this fic, and both Grantaire and Enjolras have some serious problems here they need to work out.  
> Enjolras was wrong to talk to Grantaire’s friends about his health without his permission. Also, attempting to force someone into rehab is very serious decision and needs to be more carefully considered before action.  
> As for Grantaire, he obviously needs some help, but he needs to decide to fix his life. Enjolras can’t do it for him and he still has a long road to walk before he gets to that point.  
> I choose to see this as a happy ending because I don’t believe they would ever give up on each other, but it is totally valid for you to read it another way.  
> Also, I have finally started posting my canon era exr fic. It updates every Friday if you are interested!  
> Thank you for reading! And stay safe everyone!


End file.
